


All That's Lost Can Be Found

by Blackrayvn



Category: Good Omens (Radio), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens AU - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Amnesia, Amnesia Aziraphale, Anal Sex, Angel & Demon Fight, Angel & Demon Interactions, Angel Wings, Angel and Demon True Forms (Good Omens), Apocalypse, Armageddon, Aziraphale's True Form (Good Omens), Claiming, Claiming Bites, Confused Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley's True Form (Good Omens), Demon True Forms, Fights, French Kissing, Gay Sex, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kissing, Knowing Crowley, Love, M/M, Memory Loss, Minor Blood Mention, Minor Violence, Morning Kisses, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Other, Principality Aziraphale (Good Omens), Rough Kissing, Sex, Sex on a Battlefield, Sparring, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), True Love, assassin crowley, demon assassins, sparring sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:35:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26719144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blackrayvn/pseuds/Blackrayvn
Summary: Crowley and Aziraphale Thwartedthe Apocalypse, fooled both Heavenand Hell, and finally came to termswith their love.Though even in her Ineffable Planno one truly knows what herintentions are.  Leaving Gabrieland Beelzebub totake that for granted.
Relationships: Angel Aziraphale - Relationship, Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Beelzebub (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Gabriel (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Adam Young (Good Omens), Beelzebub & Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Crowley/Gabriel (Good Omens), Demon Crowley - Relationship, Principality Aziraphale - Relationship, Serpent Crowley - Relationship
Comments: 8
Kudos: 10





	1. Payback's A Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> No trigger warnings.
> 
> As this progresses though there will  
> be and I will add in the tags and such.

**Chapter 1**

_Payback's A Bitch_

**[PLAYLIST FOR CHAPTER 1 - CLICK](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4h_68InM1ZYj0vuuwf10hJ) **

Crowley woke first, rubbing his eyes, blinking, smiling, something that he had to remind himself to do; he heard breathing, slow, steady. Turning his head, he couldn't help the smile that played on his lips. Turning onto his side, Crowley reached over, moving platinum curls from his angel's forehead. Crowley wondered how Aziraphale could possibly look any more angellic, but here he was wondering just that.

A curl tickled Aziraphale's nose; squinching and absently rubbing his nose, he reached out towards Crowley, patting the bed till his hand found its purchase across Crowley's chest. The happiness that Crowley was feeling wasn't meant for a demon, and yet again, here they were. An angel and a demon, thwarting the Apocolypse and somewhere in there, they had finally admitted their love.

Of course, Crowley would never admit that he more than hinted at it the night before. The world was put right by Adam, and as Crowley started to mention to Aziraphale that he may have had feelings for him that were several centuries old, just ended with the serpent having an armful of angel. Crowley couldn't be happier with the outcome.

Looking at Aziraphale, he was surprised that the angel actually even knew how to sleep; it was something he had never witnessed or even heard of. Crowley grinned rather proud of himself, having worn the angel out, impossible? Well, not for him, he may not have patience as a virtue, but given a goal, well give him that, and Crowley had more patience than God herself.

Crowley smiled as blue eyes fluttered open, slowly focusing on Crowley's face, a smile spreading, followed by a blush.

"So, not a dream, then?"

"Not a dream angel, we're really here."

Aziraphale pulled the arm he had draped over Crowley, pulling him to him, curling around him. Crowley was enjoying the openness that he felt he now had with his, yes, his angel. How he loved the sound of that, their side, his angel, all of it was perfect.

"So, plans, or would you like to have a sit-in today?"

"Oh, a sit-in, sleep in, whatever you want to call it, my love."

Crowley smirked suddenly, feeling bashful at the being called Aziraphales love. Not his lover, not his dear, but his love and hearing that from Aziraphale meant everything. Crowley could be that for Aziraphale for them both, so much wasted time that he wanted to make up for, so many little stolen kisses, all of it.

"I do need to pop over to the bookshop, I'll bring the very best of my wine, I saved a few bottles and with a small miracle, kept it in tip-top condition!"

"Alright, Angel, come right back, though?"

"Oh, most certainly! A few things I would like to try...with you."

The wicked grin that Aziraphale managed to muster up had Crowley feeling that as a promise, and it took hold in the pit of his stomach, as his heart fluttered.

"NgK!.."

Aziraphale kissed Crowley till it wasn't just a kiss anymore, Crowley was pulling him closer, wrapping around Aziraphale. Grinning, Aziraphale snapped, leaving Crowley in a state of want, need, growling. Crowley buried his face in the pillows.

Rather proud of himself, Aziraphale popped into his bookshop, taking a deep breath calming his own corporation's form. Aziraphale wasn't about to deny Crowley anything ever again; there would be no more saying ~No~, no more lonely nights thinking of him. No more looking at the phone, remembering the numbers that hadn't changed miraculously through the ages.

Aziraphale happily went through his shop, running his fingers over books that had just recently been resurrected from hellfire. Opening the last door heading for the back room where they usually had their moments together, drinks, talks, loving each other without saying a word, Aziraphale stopped in his tracks.

Aziraphale went to snap when Gabriel lifted a hand, his arms immediately chained to the floor with divine wrath. Looking to the side as he heard the buzzing laugh he knew far too well, Beelzebub, and much to his horror, Gabriel had Adam. Adam looked scared; he also looked a bit roughed up; what had they done to him?

"Gabriel, Beelzeb..."

"Shut the fuck up, Aziraphale."

Gabriel snapped, Aziraphale found himself not able to move his mouth, not able to talk, and moving was no longer something he could do; he was paralyzed. Struggling did nothing, his corporation was being held hostage by Gabriel and Beelzebub. Aziraphale could feel himself slipping in and out of his form.

"So this is how this is going to go."

Gabriel motioned for Beelzebub, who joined him on the other side of Adam. Aziraphale watched in horror as the two placed their hands on Adam's shoulder, each telling him what he should do. Adam was shaking, still saying ~ No~...almost begging as he looked at Aziraphale. Adams saviour...~please no..~

"You and Crowley seem to have made a side of your own from what I hear for the humans. That just made this easier, which means I can use what made you against you now. Perfect for what we need to be done."

Adam was shoved, falling onto his knees in front of Aziraphale, who could do nothing to help him. Adam looked up at Aziraphale, tears streaming down his face, deep sobs wracked his little body.

"Please don't make me do this, I don't want this."

"Do it, Adam, or we can easily kill your father, mother, and your friend here. Angel or not, he is a Principality; he belongs on the war front commanding the armies of Heaven, not running a bookshop and having relations with a demon."

Adam looked from Gabriel to Aziraphale; Beelzebub chuckled darkly off to the side again, keeping within the shadows this was still Aziraphale's bookshop. The only demon that was allowed here was Crowley. Crowley didn't know what was going on; Aziraphale looked down at Adam, waiting to see what was going on.

"Make him forget Adam, so we can restart the war. Let's see what happens if he doesn't ever remember Crowley. How he would have been different from the start."

"Please don't make me do this."

"Do it, Adam, your family will be protected, we told you that."

"You could be lying."

"I'm an angel. You can trust me..."

Adam looked back at Aziraphale, tears had filled his eyes and were streaming down his face. They were going to take Crowley from him, never having met Crowley ever. Take away six thousand years of friendship, take away their win, their side, their love. Adam could see and feel the pain as Aziraphale's heart broke at that moment as he looked up at him taking his memories.

Aziraphale went limp under the weight of having his mind wiped of Crowley, Adam felt his memories leave him. Without Crowley knowing, Aziraphale might just see him as another demon, so Adam kept Aziraphale's memories. Hid them away from Gabriel and Beelzebub within his own vast mind.

"Restart the war, Adam."

Adam stood, touching Aziraphale's face, leaving a distinct feeling that Gabriel and Beelzebub couldn't detect or feel. Love. A sense that would confuse him maybe, but Adam hoped it would be enough to stop Aziraphale from killing Crowley. Adam stood walking back to Gabriel, taking his hand in his own. Adam restarted the war, taking away the nuclear warheads; if Gabriel and Beelzebub wanted this, they would have to do it the old-fashioned way, not using human technology.

Once the war had restarted, Adam could see Aziraphale moving on the ground; with an evil grin, Adam let his hand become hellfire. If he was Lucifer's son, then Gabriel wasn't going to touch him anymore. Gabriel screamed, much to the delight of Adam and Beelzebub.

"Well, you wanted this, Gabriel, welcome to the end. Asshole."

Adam went to Beelzebub, who grabbed his hand and snapped them away. Gabriel watched as Aziraphale stood, confusion clouded his eyes, things were wrong, he felt wrong. Clutching at his chest, leaning against a bookshelf to hold him up, the pain gripped his chest and mind. Slowly as his eyes cleared, the pain diminished, having been forgotten.

"Gabriel?"

"Principality Aziraphale?"

"Yes, of course, where's my sword?"

Gabriel grinned from ear to ear; Adam had held up his end of the bargain so Gabriel would make sure to keep his family safe. Gabriel held out a hand to Aziraphale, who was still coming into his own new world now, one without Crowley. One in which Aziraphale was a full-blown Principality, only knowing what he was, having waited for this day for over six thousand years.

Crowley was staring up at the ceiling, waiting for Aziraphale to come back. Time seemed to be going slower suddenly; he felt a shift somewhere, without his say, scales traveled his body, covering all the softest parts of his flesh, the most delicate covered by scales.

Crowley looked at it, remembering his armor; something was very wrong. Standing, Crowley flicked out his wrists, whips of hellfire and shadow, his weapons, ones that moved with his serpentine form. The ceiling of his flat turned to an eerie red, he heard the screams from outside. Quickly Crowley got up, looking out his window, rubbing his eyes. Looking from sky to ground, the people fleeing, he gasped.

The skies had opened up, trumpets were being sounded, the horseman of old were on their steeds racing across the sky. The Apocolypse had somehow started again; this wasn't possible. Where was Aziraphale? Without thinking, Crowley snapped his fingers, appearing in a very empty bookstore. Looking around, Crowley sensed something was very off; the bookshop felt dead, unloved.

Crowley ran through the shop searching for Aziraphale, not again, not this, not again; he could feel his heart sinking into his stomach when from behind him, Gabriel popped into the shop. Whipping around, Crowley was on the defense, whips flew out from Crowley's wrists, looking at Gabriel, who had raised his hands up.

"Don't have to worry about me, Crowley, you gave us all we needed. I would say good luck, but I really don't think you would fare well against a true Principality. It is amazing the things you can accomplish when pushed just too fucking far."

"A true Principality? What did you do Gabriel, where is Aziraphale?"

"Oh, he's fine, you know, with the whole restarting of the Apocolypse and all, we had a little talk with him, he'll be here shortly."

Crowley took a step back, not fully understanding anything that was going on; the thunder boomed as the first set of angels descended from the heavens. Humans were screaming, running for churches, anywhere to hide away from the swarm of demons that erupted from the ground swallowing the park that Crowley and Aziraphale often fed ducks at.

"Have fun Crowley, paybacks a bitch isn't it. Never know, maybe this was part of her ineffable plan, who knows, surely not any of us."

Gabriel smirked before he disappeared in a cloud of violet smoke. Crowley started to head for the door of the shop when the floors shook. Books fell off of shelves, bookcases toppled as Aziraphale appeared in the shop. Crowley looked and became deadly quiet as he looked at him; this wasn't his Aziraphale; this was Heaven's greatest warrior, commander of all the armies of Heaven, in full armor, flaming sword and all.

Aziraphale stood up, taller than Crowley knew him to be, thinner, not so soft, he had taken on the same corporation but hadn't snacked or enjoyed earth's little pleasures like he did with Crowley.

Taking a step back, Crowley kicked a wine glass that had fallen, crushing it under his foot. Instantly, Aziraphale turned around, hiss full wings unfurled, knocking over bookshelves and breaking the shop's front glass. Eyes that Crowley loved to look into, lose himself within the stars that danced there, looked at Crowley, blue fires blazed out from them.

"Aziraphale?"

Crowley barely was able to get out, his voice gone, this wasn't his Aziraphale. This wasn't the one he woke up next to; Crowley realized that he needed to fear this Aziraphale. Gabriel was right in Crowley's current state. He wouldn't survive Aziraphale. He needed to go and leave fast.

"Hmmm, The Serpent of Eden? Long time no see demon."

Aziraphale was far faster than Crowley ever knew; he felt Aziraphale's hand around his throat before his head smacked into the wall behind him. The fires within Aziraphale looked at Crowley, with the hand that held the flaming sword, Aziraphale placed it under Crowley's chin.

"This is how this is going to go. Let's make this fun, I'll give you a chance to prepare yourself for war. Meek, mild-mannered, what happened to you First Tempter, what fun would be killing you here and now be?"

Crowley could only blink, any other time, this would be or could be fun, but Aziraphale was playing. Something happened to him.

"Don't you remember me? Aziraphale, look at me."

Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow on an all-to- perfectly angelic face, eyes that Crowley knew were still in there. Crowley kicked a bit, trying to get his feet on the ground again. Aziraphale tilted his head, looking at Crowley.

"Know you why the hell would I know? You're a demon. You should have been smited in the garden, you were useless then, you are even more than useless now."

If words could be a weapon, well, Aziraphales hurt worse than if he was skewered by that flaming sword, Crowleys heart broke in two. He understood what Gabriel meant now; they had changed Aziraphale, took who, and what he was away from him. They took him away from Aziraphale, he didn't remember him at all, only that he was the Serpent of Eden, that Crowley was a demon in the garden, and he needed to die.

Aziraphale had grown tired of seeing himself in the glasses that Crowley wore, keeping his eyes covered from everyone else; only Aziraphale had loved them. Tears ran down Crowley's face; he couldn't keep them at bay; the only thing he truly loved was broken.

Seeing the tears, Aziraphale was disgusted, reaching up, he grabbed the glasses from Crowley's face. Crowley looked down, not wanting this version of Aziraphale to see him, not who he was, what he was. Crowley simply wanted to slither away.

"Maybe we should end this now, not very serpent-like, are you?"

Crowley nodded, not wanting to see how this played out; he looked up, locking eyes with Aziraphale. Aziraphale looked blinked and stayed his hand that held the sword at Crowley's neck. Something glinted within Aziraphale's eyes; Crowley saw it, felt it as his grip on Crowley's neck lessened.

Crowley took the opportunity to shift into his serpent, dropping out of Aziraphale's hand. There was something there; it gave Crowley hope, but only for a moment, as soon as it was there, it was gone, but so was Crowley. Leaving Aziraphale in a bookshop that had never felt his love, never been cherished, it was only a front to keep the humans from seeing what he was.

As Crowley slithered away, he heard the boom of Aziraphale's voice, laced with Divine Wrath. Heard as the bookshop exploded, papers and books flying everywhere, falling from the sky pages that were cherished, everything that Aziraphale loved, Crowley saw as he destroyed it.

Crowley wanted to hide away until the war was over, but he needed to find out how this happened. How did they start a war that was thwarted? They had even fooled Heaven and Hell. Where to start, where to go.

"Adam. I'm going to kill Gabriel, where are you now, God, I'm all alone here."

Crowley headed for his Bentley; he needed to get to Tadfield, he had to see if Adam was alright. Had he started this, what happened? Crowley reached his car, going to open the door, and he stopped. The telltale buzzing of flies turned Crowley around instantly.

"Oi, Beelzebub, what brings you here, lovely day."

"Oh, shut it, Crowley. There is nothing you can do now, come back, join us, and all will be forgotten. There is nothing left for you here."

Crowley was about to tell Beelzebub to shove it up their ass but, what if, what if he went willingly. Maybe he could get to Adam easier, find out what truly happened to Aziraphale. In his heart, he knew it was going to come to fighting Aziraphale on the battlefield; it had too. In the grand scheme of things, Aziraphale was placed to guard the garden, and Crowley was placed there to destroy it.

At some point, it would come down to the two that started it all. Crowley made it seem as though he was debating, just long enough to irritate Beelzebub before sticking his hand out.

"Got yourself a deal Beelzebub, but better quarters, and I want my flat brought down with everything. This is all bullshit, and you know it, but I will fight for us, especially now that Aziraphale is a right twat, should be fun."

Beelzebub wasn't expecting such eager acceptance; they figured it would take a few times, maybe they should have done this sooner. With a nod, Beelzebub was gone; a loud crack from behind Crowley startled him as he turned and watched the building his flat was in the crumble to the ground as his home was taken, taken to hell.

"I really need to find Adam."


	2. An Immovable Angel, an A Unstoppable Demon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale takes command of Gods Armies, sending them out to start the  
> war.
> 
> Crowley barely makes it out in his Bentley, only to be seen by   
> Aziraphale. The first fight is underway as Adam interferes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No worries here, enjoy the chapter!
> 
> Thank you for reading!!

**Chapter 2**

_An Immovable Angel, an A Unstoppable Demon_

**[PLAYLIST CHAPTER 2 - CLICK FOR MUSIC](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi79P3q6QTSyakpxTbRGk7Uw) **

Aziraphale walked out of the bookshop after Crowley had escaped; he knew the serpent was around there somewhere. Feeling free from the illusion of being human, free from the corporation he had to live in. Stretching out his wings, he smirked, flipping his sword in one hand, feeling everything he knew from Heaven swarm back into his memory.

Remembering how to fight, he lifted his other hand, his shield appeared on his arm, knowing his purpose was War, a defender of all of Heaven, commander of the armies of God herself. Aziraphale had only failed once, at the Garden, but that was because rather than fight him, from what he remembered, The Serpent of Eden slithered away.

Walking over pages of books he once loved, now kicking them out of his way, for Aziraphale, it was time for War. Angels waited for his command, bowing to him was expected, he was not one that was seen often in Heaven anymore, his physique, his overall appearance demanded respect, angels knew not to go against him.

Growling at the thought, Azirphale walked out onto the street. Heading for the swarm of demons that had crawled out of the ground. Opening his wings, he took off readying himself for battle; his angels had arrived. He heard the boom when they came and the trumpets sounding for his return.

Aziraphale couldn't help himself as he flew over the demon pile to dive down and through them, clearing a pathway with Richetous Fury, Divine Wrath whipping out about him, discorporating the lower demons. Crowley and Beelzebub heard him as he flew overhead, it was hard to miss the power of Aziraphale's wings as he went aloft.

They watched as he dove into demons, slicing through them as he spun away from ever being touched. The flaming sword he had once given away to the humans to protect them was now being used to kill. His angel was doing something that he said he could never do, kill. Anything. Crowley's heart sank that much lower.

"Hey, look at that, never would have thought he was that capable. You're gonna have a fight on your hands, Crowley."

Beelzebub was far too happy about this; they knew something. Crowley had to find out. This, this thing that Aziraphale was made for, it just wasn't his angel. If Aziraphale was in there still, somewhere, it was killing him, Crowley knew it. Beelzebub grabbed Crowley's arm pulling him behind the Bentley; a demonic miracle barely saved them as Aziraphale let his true form blast out, clearing an entire city block.

Crowley and Beelzebub slowly stood up, looking towards the devastation that Aziraphale left behind. Flying above it, Aziraphale went higher, calling out for the angels to come to him. Slowly landing back to the ground, the angels lined up, waiting for his command. No one had ever seen Aziraphale's true form, but here it was.

Aziraphale stood in the center of the destruction. Six full sets of wings adorned his being, the edges coming together to an edge of a blade. Eyes of thousands opened as the set that Crowley loved closed. Crowley watched as a Lion, an Eagle melded with his angel; Crowley had forgotten that when they landed in the Garden, they were still in their true forms. Crowley knew to fear Aziraphale, but it was his kind nature that let him live, and this was not that.

There was no war, Aziraphale had never killed anything, even when the dove died during his magic act, it was Crowley that brought it back. Not being able to watch those beautiful blue eyes overflow with tears at the realization he had killed the bird. Was it against everything a demon should do? Of course, it was, did Crowley care, not in the least. It brought back that smile that reached all the way to his angel's eyes, and Crowley just watched them shut.

"Well shit, I'm out, screw this."

Beelzebub was gone just like that.

"Coward."

Crowley got into his Bentley, keeping his eyes on Aziraphale as the angels gathered around him, lining up, even the angels feared Aziraphale. This was what he was made for, War.

Crowley sighed, seeing his building gone; at least they were able to get his flat before Aziraphale went all Hulk on the world. Watching in his rearview to see if a viciously cruel and mean version of Aziraphale was coming for him, he sped away. Needing to hide his Bentley until he could miracle down below, someplace he was not looking forward too.

"Tadfield, Adam."

Crowley reminded himself of what he was doing, where he was going, and why. For the first time in as many years, Crowley looked up at the Heavens shaking his head.

"Where are you now, God? Was this part of your ineffable plan? Why Aziraphale then? The most angelic of them all, he loved humans more than anyone...why him? He loved me.."

Crowley stopped talking; he wasn't going to shed another tear; he needed to feel the pain. It was all he had right now, the memory of what they had was too much, and the fact that even before that, Gabriel stole his best friend of six thousand years. Crowley knew he would have to fight Aziraphale; he could pray it didn't come to that.

Gabriel was rather proud of himself as he watched on. Aziraphale really was a fantastic Principality, far better than he gave him credit for. Always failing to mention that Aziraphale didn't have to answer to Gabriel, Aziraphale was of two choirs, both meant for War. For a moment, Gabriel wondered if he had made a mistake as he watched Aziraphale decimate an entire block on his own without a thought.

Aziraphale commanded the armies to attack, leave no one alive, human or demon. His head turned towards the Bentley that was speeding away, he could always feel Crowley; they were of the same stock, the same being, separated into two. One for War, one for creation, now that the War was here, one of them would die, and it wasn't Aziraphale.

Shooting up into the sky, Aziraphale flew towards the Bentley. Crowley felt him, heard him before he saw him. Aziraphale dove down, landing in front of the speeding Bentley, lifting his shield as the car rammed into him. The Bentleys front end crumpled, crushing as it gave way under the strength of Aziraphale.

Crowley snapped his way out of the car, looking at this thing that took over his angel, releasing himself from his human corporation. Scales harder than diamonds, iridescent and shiny, covered the most delicate parts of his body, allowing him to move faster than any other demon.

If Aziraphale wanted a fight right now, well, who was Crowley to say no. The fucker just destroyed his beloved Bentley, with a wicked snarl, followed by a growl as Crowley let his whips descend from his wrists; Aziraphale grinned eyeing, the hellfire and shadow flame whips that were Crowley's weapons.

Crowley lowered himself, watching ever alert in a form he had hoped he would never have to use again. Twice cursed eyes glowed with a fire behind them, flipping his whips out. Remembering how to use them, how to fight Aziraphale, he knew they were mortal enemies for eternity.

Crowley wasn't made to command armies, but he was recreated from hellfire and flames to be an assassin of Hell. He knew how to use his whips. Aziraphale circled him, spinning his sword within his hand, taking a defensive position lifting his shield, he was ready.

This was the last thing Crowley ever wanted to do, and as he readied himself, he tried to think of a way to drop Aziraphale without killing him. Aziraphale was a killing machine, Crowley was talented at avoidance and stealth. Crowley heard the flames of Aziraphale's blade as he came forward, swinging towards Crowley's shoulder.

A twist of his spine and Crowley bent back, ducking under the swing of Aziraphale's blades, his shield catching Crowley in his side as he went by. Crowley felt the divine wrath tingle over the top of him. Letting go of any human hope, his fangs descended, his tongue split, he flicked out his whip catching Aziraphale's ankle and pulled.

The Principality dropped to a knee, spinning back on that knee swinging his shield at Crowley. Jumping up and twisting around, Crowley used both whips, crisscrossing them in front of him, spiraling them up and around him. Aziraphale couldn't get close enough, Crowley came at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale couldn't deny that he had always found Crowley's ability to move with his whips to the point where it looked like a dance, rather intriguing. Fighting Crowley had always been interesting, to say the least, he had bested Aziraphale a few times but always disappeared.

Aziraphale watched Crowley as Hellfire and Shadowflame danced around him, it was beautiful to see, but Aziraphale had a job. A whip came out snapping next to Aziraphale's face, ducking just in time, Aziraphale raised his blade. Crowley jumped up, twisting in the air to land back behind Aziraphale, a hellfire whip grabbing him around his leg, he felt the burn.

Crowley pulled his whip back; he only needed to drop Aziraphale long enough for him to get away. He remembered neither could use miracles; they canceled each other out. The only way now was to fight his way out. Crowley went to go for Aziraphale, though as his foot pushed him forward, Aziraphale rolled forward under the whips he grabbed Crowley's feet, pulling him back to the ground.

Aziraphale quickly straddled Crowley, lifting his sword, Crowley writhed under him, slithering back out from between Aziraphales legs. Bringing both whips up, Crowley attacked, Aziraphale lifted his shield. Holding the whips back with the sword.

The sound was deafening as the two clashed, an unmovable being going against an unstoppable being. Crowley was coming into his stride, moving faster with his dance of whips was now shadowing him, leaving a black mist that surrounded his being, causing him to be harder to hit.

Aziraphale shook his wings out, Crowley caught the glint of sharpened blades along the edges of those wings. Grinning, dropping down and growling ferally, Crowley let his own wings unfurl. Large ebony wings, dusted with stars that caught the light, allowing him hideaway at night, his own wings matching that of Aziraphale.

Fluffing his wings out and pulling them in tightly, the edges hardened into bladed hooks along the edges of his wings... Both charged the other, as they fell back into what they were once before, slowly forgetting the other. As the two were about to clash, Crowley disappeared from the area, a puff of black smoke was all that was left. Aziraphale stopped dead in his tracks, trying to feel for him, nothing, he was nowhere.

Crowley spun around, fully alert, dropping to the ground, his whips whipping around him, not knowing at first where he was. As the smoke cleared, he realized he was in his flat, in Hell. Confusion filled him as he stood back up, looking around, he saw Adam, sitting at the kitchen counter.

Adam instantly cleared Crowley's head from the fog of forgetfulness that was slowing ebbing away from his memories. Pulling his whips back along his arms, they took their place, tattooing his body from his wrists up to his arms, crossing his back and down his legs. To say that Crowley was built for assassination was an understatement the entirety of his body was a weapon, every tattoo, every scale, every part had been recreated for fighting.

Adam turned towards him; Crowley blinked, seeing the glow of red eyes; even as he looked, the sadness that filled Adam was palpable. Crowley walked to him, placing his hand on Adam's shoulder; he saw his hands for the first time, blackened, scaled, clawed. Adam slid off the seat and wrapped his arms around Crowley even in his current form, the antichrist didn't care.

Crowley pulled him closer, realizing that no matter what, Adam was only an eleven-year-old child. Something told Crowley none of this was because adam wanted it. Picking up Adam, he went into his living room; there was a couch, chairs, maybe he could find out what happened. Sitting down on the couch with Adam, he placed Adam on the seat next to him, but Adam wasn't moving; he held onto Crowley's neck.

Safety, Crowley had seen this with children, even Warlock had clung to him when he was scared, and that was what this was. Crowley let him, he stayed with his arms around Adam, letting him cry until the tears ran dry and he could talk again.

"Can you tell me what happened, Adam? I thought we fixed this."

"It was Gabriel, he came to Tadfield, grabbed me, made my family disappear to somewhere he said was safe."

"So this is Heavens doing?"

"No, Gabriel and Beelzebub, they made me do this. They made me hurt Aziraphale Crowley. I'm so sorry.

"What do you mean hurt Aziraphale?"

"I took all his memories of you, whatever was his last memory was of you, is where you are at. I think it is the Garden before you both talked. He sees you as an enemy."

"Well fuck, so I have a very large Principality who just left the War in Heaven as my enemy. Shit, that's really not good."

"I know, but I left one little thing, I think it might help you."

"...that would be?"

"Love. I could feel it wrapped around and twisting through his every memory of you."

"Really?"

Adam nodded, pressing his face against Crowley's chest. A heavy sigh and Adam had fallen asleep on Crowley; he wasn't going to move him, he had been through enough in one day, not to mention he was brought to Hell. Crowley thought of every time he had a memory of Aziraphale, realizing that all of Aziraphale's memories were laced with Love.

Crowley tried to figure a way to use that against Aziraphale; maybe it would trigger something. Anything was better than fighting him, neither would really win; if Crowley lost humanity ended, if he won, that would mean he killed his best friend, his Love, the one person in all of creation he had ever truly loved and who loved him.

A knock on Crowley's door startled him, not realizing he had dozed off, fighting took a toll on him; he may have been made for it, but not in a frontline battle. Adam heard it and jumped; Crowley calmed him, placing him in a chair with a blanket.

Opening the door, Beelzebub was looking up at him, far shorter than most of the demons but far more vicious when it came down to it. Crowley glared at them through backlit hellfire eyes; Beelzebub had forgotten just how terrifying Crowley could be when he wasn't being fashionable in a human form. Beelzebub took a step back, Crowley stepped forward, glaring down at them.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Look, I know you don't understand what's going on, but you know as well as I do, you are commanded by Lucifer himself in a time of War, not me or anyone else. He's looking for you."

"What did you do Beelzebub, does he know what you all did? Does he even know Adam is here?"

"No, that's why I am here; we put Adam in your flat because whatever you did to it won't let anyone see in it; I thought he might be safer here."

"So you have Lucifers son hiding from his father in my flat? Are you fucking crazy? What the fuck, Beelzebub?"

"I am trying to figure it out. This was Gabriel's plan; who was I to go against it? Sounded good at the time, capture the kid, release Aziraphale, the War would restart."

"Did it? Did you ever consider what Aziraphale is? Did you?"

"No, not really. I always just thought Aziraphale was nothing more than a pushover. From what is happening on the surface, we may have misjudged that."

Beelzebub shrugged their shoulders, trying to figure things out as they talked. Crowley shook his head.

"Well, you let him out, now what you want me to fix things? For fucks sake, Beelzebub, he's a Principality and a Cheribum, you think he won't see me coming? Plus, the added benefit of both us being able to locate the other."

"I think that's why Lucifer is asking for you."

"Fine, you fucked this up, I am not covering for you all, and Beelzebub, remember, you can die by my blades as well."

"You don't have to cover for me; you're the only assassin we have. No one else came out like you, so you're being asked for. Shit, you killing me might be a blessing in disguise. Have fun, Crowley."

"Fuck you, Beelzebub."

"You wish."

Crowley scrunched his face at the thought. Stepping back into his house, he called Adam to him, explaining he had to go see Lucifer and not leave his house because he was hidden here. Everything in Crowley's place worked for whatever reason, so Adam set himself up in a room that Crowley created for him. Everything he could ever want would just appear if he asked for it.

Crowley sighed, giving up on holding this human form, letting the rest of his form out.

Serpentine in the way he moved, tattoed from the mark on his temple. Flowing down his neck, crisscrossing his back down the back of his legs were hooked whips. Along his arms falling and wrapping along the front of his legs, the lashes he used so as not to cause permanent harm to Aziraphale. His scales glistened, shimmering in and out of view, pulsing around him, black iridescents blades adorned the insides of his arms. Eyes glowing with hellfire, red hair that fell to his waist in curls, waves, braids held hair back from his eyes, Crowley was beauty incarnate decorated in blacks and reds that glistened under the fires of Hell.

Walking out the door, he found himself in the center of Hell off to the wayside, the other demons stopped as he walked out, letting his wings fully unfurl from him; most here had never seen him in his demonic form. Staring at him, Crowley shot up into the air, his wings propelling him forward to Lucifers chambers, this should be interesting.

Crowley landed at Lucifer's entrance, a tunnel that went to the very core at the lowest of Hell levels. Crowley knew he would be ordered to start doing assassinations of the angels, archangels he would be all too happy to kill about now. Torturing Gabriel was at the top of his list to do. He swore he'd get that bastard, tear him from limb to limb...


	3. Spider and the Serpent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley finally meets with Lucifer  
> who is as in the dark as Crowley is  
> on how the war was restarted.
> 
> Not planning on giving up Lucifer assigns  
> Crowley five new recruits for him to train,  
> one stands out more than the others, a spider.
> 
> Aziraphale finds his way through the battles  
> when a child becomes endangered and an angel  
> of some sort reminds him "You can't kill kids."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is minor mention of Blood.  
> A little bit of pain due to a new weapon,  
> nothing overly triggering, I hope.

**Chapter Three**

_Spider and a Serpent_

**[Playlist - Click for Chapter 3 Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi7jCXiK_a-HS_fKdYg-E8O0) **

_(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mastema) "Mastema Master of Persecution"_  
_(https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sydney_funnel-web_spider)_

Crowley took a single step into the hallway; looking down at his bare foot, his boots gone, a shiver as he touched the onyx floor, he knew Lucifer was sitting on his throne at the far end. He also knew that Lucifer's perception of events and what was going on had not been changed or altered. Only his angel's memory, his perception had been broken. Another step closer, he felt the heat building with each new step he took; Crowley swore he'd never be here again, to this horror.

The smells, the scents, decay, brimstone, sulfur, this was not his angels welcoming scent, vanilla, coco, old books, and something that was innately Aziraphale. Screams echoed through the endless halls, the drop-offs, the pleading for help; Crowley closed his eyes to it all, trying to not hear the sounds that would haunt him again, the dragging chains, the sounds only his angel helped him through on the worst of nights, no matter the era, no matter when or where his angel was there.

He knew that if he didn't get a move on, Lucifer would do it for him, taking to the air Crowley flew down the corridors, finally letting his feet touch back against the cold of the onyx stone. He hated the feeling of it on his bare skin, the way it always felt wet, the way the flames glistened off of it like blood. The look always stayed; only when blood had been spilled upon it did it take on a more sinister look.

Crowley took a deep breath, losing what little humanity still graced his being; down here, he needed to be on guard, protected with everything he had, and luckily for Crowley, Lucifer had changed him into a walking weapon. Crowley didn't saunter into the room; he watched the way he walked; you were more likely to become Lucifers playtoy if you resembled anything other than a weapon.

Eyes opened at the far end of the room, glowering menacingly; Crowley tried to ignore the tortures that were being committed in every corner, of every kind. When he looked closer, he wanted to flee, he saw white through the gold, through the red that stained angels wings. Lucifer was taking prisoners, long ago he himself said that taking angels and torturing them, or taking them as prisoners of War was not permitted; slay them on the field.

A sickening feeling found a place to nestle in deep within his stomach, the thought of his angel being captured, the chances were less than zero, but then what if's took hold. What would Lucifer do to his angel, a Principality, a Cheribum? The horrors Crowley had seen all washed over his eyes. The world around him became dizzy; he was being overwhelmed; in a matter of hours, the world had turned on its head.

Lucifer watched from his throne looking less than excited; bored would be a better fit for his face. No longer keeping the facade of the beauty he once was, Lucifer motioned for Crowley to hurry up, and with a nod of his head, Crowley used his wings for the rest of the way, not wanting to have the blood of any angels on him.

"Crowley, or should I give you back the title of "Mastema, Master of Persecution"? The way things are going seems your job is returning..."

Crowley's skin crawled, remembering that name, remembering his job, how he hated it; Eden was a gift; he was able to shake that title. Remembering how the angel took Crawley simply at his name, no questions asked, no backstory received, just always taking him at his word, he was trusted.

"I would prefer if you didn't but, do as you see fit."

"Well, that's no fun, Crowley. Are you prepared to go to war that easily? After you and Aziraphale stopped it, turned my boy against me?"

"Not sure what you want me to say; I won't apologize for doing the right thing this time. Even you knew it was bad timing. There is a war, yes, and The Principality Aziraphale is already moving his angels."

There was no emotion; Crowley was far too deep in his thoughts to really have any emotion; he was numb.

"You know, Crowley, I didn't restart the war, and I had nothing to do with any of this. So don't go blaming me for this shit. Bad timing is now, wasn't ready for the sudden onslaught from above. Fucking playing catch up. Though it is reassuring to see all the weapons, I gave you are still intact."

Crowley shivered at the memory of how he received the weapons that graced his serpentine body. The grimace, flinching slightly at the pain of memory as each was bestowed upon his skin. Yet here he was again.

"I have just a few questions for you. Firstly, do you know why any of this started again? Do you know who started it? I'll know if you lie, Crowley, don't make me punish you; it's been a long time..."

Lucifers grin covered far too much of his face; the lecherousness of that grin made Crowley's scales crawl further over him, bringing about laughter from Lucifer.

"All I know is I was in my flat; Aziraphale never came back. I went to the bookshop to check, and what I found wasn't Aziraphale but what he was made for War. From what I was told, Gabriel was able to restart the War."

Crowley skirted around anything else, that he had Adam because of Beelzebub, that they had a much larger part in this than they were telling Crowley. It wasn't lying; it was merely telling Lucifer what he had heard and what he was thinking. Two entirely different things.

"Gabriel, hmm, well, that is interesting; tell me, Mastema, how much does Beelzebub have to do with this little restart?"

Crowley blinked over his serpentine eyes, a less than angelic grin creeping over his face, a tilt of his head, his tongue flicked out at the air, quickly being pulled back tasting the air of Hell. His nose scrunching as he looked on at Lucifer, who had seen his forked tongue, Crowley knew that grin and took a step back.

"No. What is it you wanted? I am not included in anything other than fighting."

"Relax, Mastema; I am not looking for that, even though those were a fun time, weren't they?"

"No, and my name isn't Mastema, not anymore; it's Crowley."

"Fine, fine have your way, for now, seems I am going to need you in battle, not just on your own anymore, there are new demons that need a firm hand, assassins all, not as good as you, then again no one ever will be, but, they're yours to lead. Oh, there is a special one in the group, all I am saying, watch your back Crowley, with that one at least."

"Just what I always needed, A Principality on my ass, and now these demons to train."

"Funny thing, here, I thought you'd have no issue with the Principality being on your ass."

An evil grin spread over Lucifer's face. Crowley stayed quiet as he looked on; from the corners of the room, demons made of some form of black mist lined up behind Crowley.

"Not this one, Lucifer, this Principality isn't the one we knew, this is a weapon forged in Heaven, you should remember him. I do, and if nothing interfered with him, we are getting a freshly forged weapon of God."

Crowley let his hair fall over his shoulder as his head tilted to the side.

"So, who is my first target?"

"Gabriel."

"Consider it done."

Crowley's smile gave away too much; hatred flowed from venomous fangs.

"Crowley, bring him here. I don't care what you do on the way here; just bring him here alive, well as alive as he can be after you've had him."

"As you say, my lord."

Crowley turned to leave, his tail now entirely in view. Armored horns adorned his head, the tip of his tail, a brutal daggered barb the onyx covering coming to a bladed edge. Lucifer noticed an area down the center of Crowleys back; it was open, no weapon, no scales.

"Crowley, come here."

Letting his eyes close for a moment, Crowley turned and walked back to Lucifer, stopping in front of him.

"Turn 'round for me."

Crowley took a step back.

"Turn around, Mastema. Now."

The sound, the tremble within the room, the command forced Crowley to turn. Crowley couldn't stop the shiver that ran from his head to the tip of his tail that was whipping back and forth. A sudden and consuming pain ripped through his body, casting him to the ground. Feeling his skin being recreated under the weight of Lucifer's artwork. Crowley found his claws digging and ripping up the onyx floor, holding himself on his hands.

Crowley could feel the way his skin was being ripped; he recognized it, another weapon. This one was more painful than others; it would have been less if he had been warned before the slicing happened. Flames, hellfire in the middle of his back Crowley could feel it, couldn't get away from it, dropping his forehead to the cool of the floor, the only time he ever praised anything this much and a floor none the less.

"There, now you have a sword to match the Principality, far lighter, far easier for you to move with, but it will serve you well, I think."

"You could have fucking warned me, Lucifer..."

Crowley growled out, his anger visibly crawling through his scales, as his hiss rippled out through the room.

"I could have, but what fun would have that been Mastema....?"

Crowley caught his breath as he stood and stalked out the door. Into the hallway and back up to the middle of Hell, where his flat was. Turning, he looked at the group of assassins who had formed and followed their leader. The smallest of them grabbed his attention; Crowley motioned with his finger to come to him.

The little one did as they were commanded; Crowley walked around them, black mist swirled and danced about them, lashing out as Crowley tried to touch it. Their figure, their being shifting in and out of sight, this one was different; it took Crowley a moment to find where their features were. Once he did, his finger caught the underside of a delicate chin; tilting their face up, Crowley blew at the mist pulling it to twirl around his finger.

A blue eye and a green, stars, gold, and silver sparkles, their eyes glittered like the night skies, the true color changing back and forth, but never matching. It was like watching the moon chase the sun, never touching, always moving. Looking closer, they had more than one set of eyes; eight stared back at him; Crowley would be lying if he said it didn't catch him off guard. This one, this one, though, he wanted to test to see what they could do.

Walking around them one more time, Crowley grinned. It wasn't often that a female from the surface, let alone a human, had died and adopted a demon form, especially this type of form. Crowley had seen them turn into succubi or companions for other demons or even Lucifer himself, but this one, this one chose to forgo all of that.

Reaching forward and catching an arm before it disappeared into the mist once more, Crowley saw the armor, black iridescent in color like his scales, but not scales. This was plating; this was something else, from a different time, yet he could feel just how deadly this one was. Running his fingers over the armor on the back of her arm, placing the eyes, she wasn't a serpent; like him, she was a spider.

Crowley couldn't help the grin; this was new; this was a human, who physically manifested themselves within the depths of Hell as something so much more than they were. Had endured Lucifer's tattooing of weapons on them and survived. The eyes, though, had him fully invested; he found himself having to pull his hand away from her.

"Meet me on the training grounds, little one; let's see what you can do. The rest of you join them there; we have an archangel to capture and play with."

Aziraphale had come into his stride; if he had ever been a soft, bookshop keeper, that part of him had been long forgotten and was dying. On the field, he was a wrecking machine, nothing stood in his way, and his legions of angels followed suit. The more Aziraphale destroyed, the harder they all fought; the demons learned quickly who could and who could not stand up to him.

Aziraphale stayed high off the ground, taking in the battlefield on which his angels were fighting demons. Watching as humans scurried away, though as ruthless a warrior of God as he was, something in him wouldn't let the churches be touched. At times he would usher humans inside the doors before demons would attack them.

He wondered if this was part of her ineffable plan; he felt a connection to the humans, Aziraphale barely remembered when God has said to love them more than her, but he remembered it. Aziraphale found that it bothered him; why was he fighting humans if he was supposed to love them? He needed to talk with Gabriel, needing to know besides defeating the demons and finally Lucifer, what was his duty to the humans.

Looking down from his height, a child, a mother, a family, but as he watched, he saw the parents each in their own turn give their lives for their child. Aziraphale could see the demons heading for the child that stood there crying out; something screamed into his mind...

"You can't kill kids!"

Before Aziraphale knew what he was doing, he was diving downward, his arms outstretched, barely making it to the little one. Letting his wings catch the air that was needed to fly above the demons. Aziraphale looked around for a church that had been blessed by him, protecting it and the humans inside.

Landing outside the church, he called for the humans to open the door. The door slowly opened just enough to see the angel of their protection but also the one that had decimated the entire area, holding a child.

"Open the door, take the little one."

The father of the church came forward and took the child from an angel's arms. The father could see something behind those eyes that glowed with divinity.

"You know, Principality, you were created to fight the war but not to kill us."

Aziraphale tilted his head, letting his wings extend fully.

"We'll see human, I already am protecting your house of worship to the almighty herself, be thankful for that right now."

Before the priest could utter another word, Aziraphale was gone; quickly, they closed the doors to the war that was being fought right outside their door. Aziraphale scanned over the battles, feeling rather proud of God's warriors and their fighting prowess.

If Aziraphale was honest with himself, not only was he looking for Gabriel, but his eyes were set on finding The Serpent of Eden; he was going to find him. In his own way fighting him seemed right; it was a dance of giving and taking; neither could overtake the other, but it was something that Aziraphale found himself requiring, needing.

Something in the back of his mind made his fingers itch; Aziraphale wasn't sure what it was, just as he wasn't sure where the voice in his head told him what to do at the time. Aziraphale needed to find Gabriel, flying straight up Aziraphale broke through the barrier, in front of him was Heaven, he hadn't seen it in quite some time, he smiled, seeing the lines of angels waiting to fight.

Crowley found himself inside his flat; it seemed darker than it usually was on the surface; there was no sun filtering in, only the light from candles or the sconces on the walls. Looking around, he found himself watching as the shadows seemed to take on a much more nefarious feeling, as though they were living within the dark corners of Crowleys flat.

A sound broke through his concentration, the sound of a child laughing, enjoying themselves, not something Crowley was used to having in his flat; he rarely had Aziraphale here, let alone a child.

"Adam?"

"In here, Crowley!"

"Yeah, stay there for a second; you need to understand something about me; here I can't stay as I seemed on the surface, with Aziraphale, alright?"

"I know Crowley, I don't remember looking like this either, so if I changed, you probably have as well. I'm not scared Crowley, let me see you."

Crowley leaned out past the edge of the door he was hiding behind. Catching Adam's view, he could see why he wasn't worried; Crowley walked into the room. Adam smiled as he walked up to Crowley.

"Kneel, Crowley..."

Crowley did as Adam commanded; there was a different feeling here; Crowley wanted to do as Adam said. There wasn't a fear of what would happen to him; it was a more effortless feeling to fall into. Adam reached up, running his fingers over Crowley's horns, touching scales that shimmered on his temples.

"So, this is you then?"

"Yes, this is me."

"What are all these drawings on you?"

"Weapons, your father seems to like to put them under your skin."

"That must be painful, is it?"

"Yes, very, he just gave me a sword in the middle of my back."

Adam walked around Crowley, seeing the new weapon that had been carved into Crowleys back. Frowning, the Antichrist placed his fingers along Crowley's spine, somehow healing him, taking the pain from Crowley's demonic form.

"So, there seems to be a way I can help."

Crowley listened, sitting back on his heels. Tilting his head as he listened, Crowley was impressed with how Adam handled the enormous mess they had found themselves in.

"You work for me; I command it. You will be my guard, my protector, and only my protector."

Crowley could feel a change within him, a weight lifted from his being as though Adam's words, his commands held more sway over him than his fathers. Crowley didn't know why but he appreciated it; just for that reprieve alone, Crowley would defend Adam till the end if need be.

"As you wish, my lord."

Adam smiled and turned, heading back for the television; he had manifested a PlayStation Five and was playing with The Them that he had also somehow protected along with tadfield.

"Question Adam, if you can do all that, why can't we just remind Aziraphale of what he is and was?"

"I would need him to already have some idea that he was something from before, and right now, he is in Heaven. Something is happening, but I don't know if it's for good or bad."

Crowley nodded and headed out to the training grounds to meet his newly founded assassins and the spider. Leaving his flat, Crowley placed more protections, curses around the doors and the entire area. Having to keep the Antichrist hidden would become more difficult as he came into his power, but for now, Adam was doing an excellent job of remaining a child. However, Crowley could feel the fight starting to take over within him.

Crowley's wings opened, letting them pull him up into the air, above the center of Hell where demons were gathering and getting ready to leave. Though somehow unbeknownst to Crowley, word had already spread that he was back, his human form long gone, and he was going to the training grounds.

Demons, devils, of all makes, and of all sorts, were clamoring around the outskirts of the arena. As The Serpent of Eden descended onto the field, all went quiet; there was an air of anticipation that filtered onto the open hall. Landing with serpentine grace, Crowley took in and counted how many had survived becoming assassins of Hell, a grand total of five.

The one he was interested in stood apart from the other four.

"Interesting."

Crowley quickly noticed that the black mist he was made of was not the same as these new assassins were made from, but they were leeching off the spider. Crowley smirked, bowing to the group, now was as good a time to see what they could do, now would be better than finding out on the field.

"You two, pair off when ready take on those two. Remember, this is just to show me what you can do, try not to kill each other."

Crowley could feel the disappointment coming from the little female that was off to the side. Knowing that she wanted to prove herself, explained a lot, determined, and unafraid. Though as he watched for a moment longer, his eyes dropped down, her mist covered form, and noticed her feet were not touching the floor, but as he counted, eight tendrils of black smoke did.

She was controlling the mist around her; she had control over transforming into something else. This would come in handy once they were back out on the surface; it also made her that much more deadly and possibly fatal to Crowley's angel. Grinning, Crowley let his legs join together, his serpentine form shifting, and with a switch of his tail, he knocked the shadow legs out from under her.

Hearing the disgruntled complaining, Crowley felt warm inside; why was that? It wasn't what he expected, yet here he was confused. Indeed he was getting tired of surprises, of confusion, and of new demons. All Crowley wanted to do was kill Gabriel, but even that he wasn't allowed to do, at least not yet.

An angel in Heaven needed more information to meet a demon in Hell who was training assassins to take on those from Heaven. At some point, they both knew a battle between them was inevitable, somewhere in the depths of whatever souls they had eagerly awaited.


	4. Two Demons of Light and Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley tests out his new demons, weeding out those that will serve no real purpose and finally getting the ones he does need. Aziraphale confront gabriel in Heaven and Crowley/Aziraphale meet on the battlefield, for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No triggers

**Chapter Four**

_Two Demons of Light and Dark_

**[Chapter Four Playlist ` Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi4kgPLJdysstiRfWsqymlSB) **

Aziraphale looked out over Heaven; a broadening smile graced his angelic face. Taking in the training angels in his arena, watching that they were appropriately trained for their journey and war down on Earth, for him to command. Still, as he watched, there was a tugging somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind. Aziraphale was done with feeling the tug within; he decided to ignore the call of whatever it was.

Releasing tendrils of divinity reach out, Aziraphale closed his eyes, feeling for Gabriel; they needed to speak. The fact that Gabriel was nowhere to found on Earth and had retreated back to Heaven had Azitraphale confused, his irritation for the Archangel growing exponentially. A question kept replaying in his mind, why was Gabriel not fighting, not following Aziraphale's commands as he should be doing.

Divinity sought out and found Gabriel; Aziraphale's eyes flashed open to see the brightest of lights over one part of the City. Powerful wings pushed the air within them, letting Aziraphale fly to Gabriel. Landing with a cracking sound as Aziraphale's feet touched the ground, thunder crossed over the surface of the Earth, humans ran, screamed, hiding from the noise.

Gabriel felt the shattering and heard the thundering boom of Principality Aziraphale when he landed. Gabriel swallowed hard, knowing he would have to hide his knowledge from Aziraphale or else suffer at the hands of God's mightiest Commander and warrior. Worry, anxiety, nervousness crossed through Gabriel's trembling body; even Gabriel hadn't expected this from Aziraphale. He had always seen and thought of Aziraphale as a pushover. Someone to be controlled and toyed with, Gabriel had forgotten what Aziraphale indeed was.

Principality Aziraphale, Cheribum, and Watcher of the Eyes, all of those things were forgotten when Gabriel and Beelzebub had changed the timeline. They had released the Commander, the Death Bringer. A being that wasn't to be trifled with, if anything, a being that needed to be kept under control. Not leaving Aziraphale to his own devices, only God could control Aziraphale, and she had no idea as to what was happening below. Gabriel had become terrified of Aziraphale, seeing what he definitely was capable of; Aziraphale was far more than Gabriel had anticipated.

Gabriel wasn't needed anymore in Heaven; he was needed on Earth fighting, obeying Aziraphale's every command. Each command was followed through without complaint; without question, Aziraphale ruled the battlefields. Gabriel heard Aziraphale before he saw him, slowly turning around to face him; it was time to hide what he knew, or else he might very well be the next fatality during the war, and no one would question it.

"Gabriel, since you seem to have stationed yourself here and not on Earth during the battle, what are the plans for the humans? The almighty stated to love and protect them, or has that changed?"

Gabriel looked up at Aziraphale, far taller than the humble bookshop keeper, no longer hiding behind a facade that had meant the world to him only a few days before. Gabriel had to admit to himself right then he missed the bookshop keeper; Aziraphale was terrifying.

"Usher them into the churches, leave places of worship protected, even Hell is avoiding them, it is the same for both sides."

Aziraphale tilted his head, squinting his eyes slightly looking at Gabriel; how did he know what the hell, Hell was planning, what they were doing? Gabriel heard a low growl starting in Aziraphale's chest, slowly emanating up as he looked down at Gabriel.

"How would you know Hell's plan, Archangel Gabriel?"

Gabriel had to think fast on his feet; he knew he screwed up right then, but Gabriel was very good at bullshitting everyone, and so he would try it on Aziraphale. Clearing his throat, Gabriel spoke in his most arrogant tone of voice he could muster, it would either show strength, or it would be his undoing.

"A few lower demons from hell sought out protection for the information they supplied; the Almighty granted them protection."

Gabriel nodded as if finishing his sentence with a period. Aziraphale wasn't fooled though he let Gabriel think he was; that tug made itself known again, but stronger as Gabriels lie seemed to touch upon that tug.

"Fine. When will the rest of the angels be ready?"

"Shortly, making sure the rest are trained and sending them to your command, Principality Aziraphale."

"Good, make sure its soon Gabriel, I don't want to have to come back here looking; we do have a timeline and a war to win."

Before Gabriel could even speak, Aziraphale was gone. Only the breeze and his light were left. Aziraphale flew from Heaven, reaching the edges of City; he pulled his wings in against himself, letting himself fall; it was faster than flying, and something that he knew how to do but couldn't fathom why he knew how to fall.

Thoughts, feelings were starting to honestly bother him, the way his mind tugged at his very existence. The way Aziraphale was slowly beginning to feel like something, no someone was missing from his life. As his feet touched the Earth, a new feeling slowly went over him, leaving a cloud of doubt and question over his head; Aziraphale felt wrong.

Crowley placed his hand out to help the little spider up from being knocked on her arse. Snarling slightly, she got herself up, slapping Crowley's hand away. Crowley took a step back, looking at her; she would do nicely.

"What's your name, spider?"

"Szaracis, sir."

"Alright, can you fight these others without killing them?"

"Why keep them alive if they can't be of any help?"

Crowley blinked at her; an evil smile slowly started to take place on Crowley's lips. In his mind, something was tugging; being here, being in Hell was making him feel different, as though he belonged here. With a tilt of his head, he nodded to Szaracis before bowing, making a gesture with his hand.

"Well, let's see who survives you then."

Szaracis smiled wickedly; her eyes sparkled before she shimmered into a black mist, impressing Crowley. Taking a step back, Crowley motioned for all of them to fight, which they did. A growl from his side and Crowley watched as one, two, three demons were discorporated, they wouldn't be usable for at least a month, but the forth was giving Szaracis a run for her money.

Crowley watched the fourth, skilled, fast, precise. He hadn't noticed them because as they stopped moving, they disappeared from sight only to reappear somewhere else, or as he watched, much to his surprise, there was more than one of them, all being controlled by a center being.

Even as he watched in amazement, their prowess wasn't what really caught his attention. Even more than being impresses somewhere deep within the little demon was a light, just a small one, but a light nonetheless. Crowley could swear it was divinity, but how would he know what he was looking at.

Crowley lifted his hand, stopping the fight; both stood next to the other. One dark, one light, Crowley realized at that moment as his clouded mind cleared again, he was here for Aziraphale. He was starting to forget; the timeline was beginning to make itself the real timeline; he had to remember; he couldn't forget.

"Very good little one, what's your name?"

"Amnayelth, sir."

"A rather angelic name for a demon."

"I am neither here nor there; I am stuck somewhere in between. It's an odd place to be."

"I would rather say it is, so how do I know you won't try to discorporate us?"

"I have more to hate for Heaven than I do here. I don't even know how I ended up here; I can only presume Heaven made me fall."

Crowley nodded, only partially understanding what she was talking about, but his mind put two and two together. Perhaps when the timeline had been altered, it wasn't just Aziraphale that had been changed; maybe it was others as well. The light shouldn't be in Hell, nor should divinity be in a demon. This little one was between tortured and lost; Crowley felt terrible for her.

"Alright, so you two are going to be mine. We will work together; you will have missions to do with and without me. I expect you to come back. Do not let yourselves be caught, especially by Principality Aziraphale; he's mine to deal with."

Amnayelth and Szaracis both stood next to the other, hand in hand, not what Crowley was expecting, but there it was. Another kick to his heart that was slowly forgetting, there he stood looking at an angel and a demon holding hands. Watching as the light of the tormented angel wrapped around the black mist of the other, he couldn't help but smile.

Smiling, Crowley thanked his stars, his stars, he remembered his stars. He was thankful; he remembered the wall, him, and Aziraphale's first remeeting. What to have these two do, though, they needed to find where Gabriel was, that was the first thing, and Crowley needed to find Aziraphale; he knew it would be easy, but maybe the more Aziraphale saw him, maybe Aziraphale would remember.

"Find Gabriel, if it's beyond where you can go, come get me. If he is where you can get him, do as you will, just make sure he comes here alive."

Just as the words finished leaving Crowley's mouth, the two were gone; in the shadow of light, he stood there alone, again. He hated this feeling; he had felt it for so long before Aziraphale, before that damned wall. Here Crowley was feeling it again, and as he did, fear crawled over his skin like a plague, what if he forgot, what if they genuinely fought and killed the other. Crowley couldn't help the way the fear grew within him.

Aziraphale looked out over the battlefield, knowing before long they would take the battle elsewhere. As a commander, Aziraphale was all-seeing, always knowing the next step even five steps ahead, if not more. He felt lonely as he saw the humans; he flew to them, ushering them into the church before being killed. Aziraphale felt out of place, as if he should know this place but in a different light.

Walking down the street back to where his bookshop had been, the one Aziraphale had annihilated himself. Picking up books that weren't destroyed, he looked at them. Aziraphale found one book that particularly caught his attention, completely undamaged, not a burn mark, not a page was torn out. ~The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch.~ Flipping through the pages, a letter fell out; Aziraphale watched the page flutter to the ground.

Reaching down, he picked up the letter, looking around as he read it the first time, then reread it again and again. Something clicked in his mind but what clicked had to be wrong, wasn't it?

~Dear AZF

I rewrote the sign for your window, Angel. Yours was just awful; this should do better for you. I also have some whiskey, wine, and snacks for you. I'll be over at around eight tonight, Angel! See you then.

AJC~

Aziraphale had a flash of something go through his mind, too fast for him to make heads or tales of, but what was it? Who was AJC? He knew those letters but couldn't place who they belonged to; the tug was back, he needed to know. Taking a look around him, Aziraphale folded and tucked the letter away, pressing it into the sheath of his sword. He needed to figure that out; one last look at the book and a prophecy almost screamed at him.

~Principality, when all is lost to you, remember, when he is lost to you, find him. The end is not the end; restart the beginning.~

Aziraphale knew it was to him, about him, but why. What was it about, and how did this book understand what a Principality even was. Either way, he didn't have time right now, though he kept the book, tucking it away into The Nether. Aziraphale took to the air, releasing his true form over the ground flying to command his armies.

Crowley had entered the fray again, fighting as only he could, taking down angel after angel; he had no choice if he was going to survive. Keeping in mind that none of this was real and fixing the timeline would bring all of these celestial and occult beings back from the dead.

Aziraphale was watching from the air, sending out commands, watching as angels controlled the ebb and flow of the battle below him. A commander he was, knowing which way to run the fight, quickly realizing there were no commanders on Hell's side of things. Aziraphale always knew they were unorganized, but this was different; why wasn't there anyone leading the battle.

Aziraphale heard the cries of angels before he saw anything; turning his head, he saw the demons flanking his angels. Then from the back, demons swarmed over his angels. Someone was suddenly commanding the armies and doing it exceptionally well. Another swarm of demons flanking his men for the opposite side as thousands more came from the front.

Aziraphale growled at how organized the demons were; he had to think before ushering out another command. It was then that he saw the swath of angels falling before his eyes, saw the misty darkness drinking in, devouring the light. Aziraphale saw him, only in a flash, but he saw him. Crowley.

Crowley was spinning, ducking, rolling, sliding behind the angel he was fighting, discorporating each one. Aziraphale watched from above a moment longer than he should have, but the grace and beauty of watching Crowley fight had caught him off guard. Crowley fighting in Aziraphale's eyes seemed more like a dance, well-choreographed, beautiful. The way his lean, nimble, agile frame moved with his weapons took Aziraphale's breath from him.

Shaking his head, trying to remove the feelings that were taking hold of him, Aziraphale growled, slamming himself down to the ground. Knocking back angel and demon alike, the only one not moved was Crowley. Turning, he saw Aziraphale; he already knew who it was before he saw Aziraphale. The strength of the landing, the shattering of the ground beneath their feet, the way the air encircled Crowley, was a loving embrace.

Lowering himself closer to the ground, Crowley released his true form; there was no other way he could survive. Aziraphale stood there in all his glory, his true form on full display; Aziraphale's majestic beauty had Crowley's clawed fingers itching. Aziraphale spun his sword in his hand, deftly capable of using his flaming sword to take any demon on, possibly Lucifer himself.

As Crowley kept his eyes steadily attached to Aziraphale, he noticed that he was entranced watching Crowley change. He saw the tilt of Aziraphale's head, saw as his eyes looked at him from his horns to the very tip of his bladed tail. Crowley smirked, seeing Aziraphale lick his lower lip; Crowley remembered he was temptation incarnate. Crowley saw when Aziraphales sword faltered for a moment in his hand once Crowleys' full true form faced him down on the battlefield.

Crowley flicked his wrists out towards Aziraphale; whips of shadow and hellfire stayed attached to Crowley's wrist, his weapon of choice. Aziraphale grinned, bringing his sword up, ready to fight, taking a step forward; Crowley was gone, only a mist of darkness gave away where he had gone.

Aziraphale spun around as Crowley's whip wrapped around Aziraphale's ankle, pulling him to a knee. Reaching down to his ankle Aziraphale grabbed the shadowed whip in his armored hand, yanking Crowley to him. Slamming his sword into the ground, letting his hand grab whatever he could of Crowley.

Crowley's downfall was not being able to let go of his whips; they were attached to him, so as Aziraphale pulled him, he felt Aziraphale's hand grip his shoulder before the ground cradled his body. Crowley's eyes slowly opened; he wasn't discorporated, he felt embarrassed by his screw up, but he was alive.

Aziraphale looked down at Crowley, his knee firmly placed on Crowley's chest; he wasn't going anywhere, at least that was what Aziraphale thought. Crowley blinked, smiling at Aziraphale.

"Getting cocky these days, serpent?"

"Oh who me Principality, maybe I wanted to feel you."

Aziraphale cocked an eyebrow at Crowley, tilting his head. Crowley now smirked, a drawing smirk that would pull in anyone, but with Aziraphale, it was something, not powerful, but something as Crowley let temptation slowly flow off him.

"These whips are going to get you killed, and that's my job."

"What else is your job Azzzziraphale, do you want to see what else I can do with my whips?"

Aziraphale shook his head, trying to clear the fog that was slowly covering his eyes. That was all Crowley needed, he may not be made for one on one fighting with Aziraphale, but he was the best at escaping. Crowley's form shimmered, burrowing into the ground under Aziraphale. The serpent of temptation came up behind Aziraphale.

Aziraphale quickly turned only to have Crowleys clawed hands slide around his neck and felt Crowley's fanged mouth on his own. Before Aziraphale could do anything, Crowley was gone. Aziraphale stood there, dumbfounded, wiping his mouth off from the serpent, but something had planted itself in his spine.


	5. Battlefield Sparring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's spies need some help getting to heaven and past Aziraphale. Doing everything he can to get Aziraphale's attention, leads to far more than he bargained for, and yet, a new problem arises as divinity slowly starts to travel along Crowley's neck. Heaven and its angels are doing far worse than anything any of them could expect, something is very wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earned E Rating  
> Believe it or not, it's kind of a needed moment  
> No real triggers

**Chapter Five**

_Battlefield Sparring_

**_[Playlist for Chapter Five, Click for Music](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL-B2IVpkcxi5K4P_2tss37kpxIXJ0S-d6) _ **

At times Aziraphale would underestimate Crowley and his skills; they rivaled Aziraphale's own, although they were the exact opposite. Whereas Aziraphale was death incarnate on one to one combat, Crowley was sheer stealth. If Aziraphale's weren't on Crowley, he would disappear.

A wicked grin crossed Azirphales mouth as he looked around, looking for wherever Crowley had disappeared too. There was one thing about the mortal plane; during a war in Earth's surroundings, they both had to follow the rules. Crowley couldn't have gone far.

"Where are you, Crowley? Do you think you can hide forever?"

From somewhere right next to him, Aziraphale felt the warmth of Crowley's breath against his ear.

"Just long enough, Azzziraphale."

Crowley's tongue darted out against Aziraphale's ear, and as Aziraphale spun in the direction of Crowley, his hand out grabbing at nothing but air. Crowley was gone again. Aziraphale could hear the muffled chuckle of laughter, a silently gentle hiss.

Crowley had silently flown up into the air, his wings making no sound, only a gentle breeze. Aziraphale looked up as the breeze washed over him, something about the scent that filled his nose, innately Crowley. Burnt sugar, vanilla, apples, Aziraphale knew his scent; they had been rivals since the fall.

A demonic angel and an angellic demon stood on a wall, holding hands looking down on the war being fought below them. They knew what they were meant to do, Crowley had told them, but something rubbed them the wrong way.

Szaracis looked at Amnayelth, wondering within her head if her counterpart was thinking the same thing. Looking down at their interlaced hands, a sudden realization occurred to her. They both were of the same being, somehow split into two parts, an ethereal and occult.

"Amnayelth, does this seem familiar? I mean all of this like we've done this before?"

Amnayelth looked at Szaracis, with a nod of her head.

"Something here isn't as it should be; I feel incomplete unless I am with you. Everything here seems wrong like it was meant to happen, with different players."

Szara nodded her head, squeezing the hand she held within her own, holding onto Amnay as though she would float away into nothingness if she let go. There was a comfort in the hands that held on to the other.

"It feels like someone else is pulling the strings of fate; something was changed in the worst of ways."

"Yes, that's exactly what it feels like. Do you remember Crowley from before this? I remember something, and I can feel that he knows more than he is letting on. I don't remember seeing him in his true form before."

Amnay pointed up with her free hand at the weapon of all of Heaven, watching as Aziraphale dove into the fray. Both sigh as they watched, seeing as demons were discorporated within the wake of the Principality.

Looking at each other, they knew they would have to get by him, and it wouldn't be easy, if even possible.

"I have an idea. You still come off as angellic, Aziraphale might not stop you, and we can walk through!"

"What about you?"

"You captured me and are bringing me back to Heaven as a prisoner. He'd believe that."

"I don't like this."

"Do you have a better idea, one simple better idea?"

Amnay let her head fall to the side as she rolled her eyes at Szara. Not being able to stop the smile that crossed Zsara's face, she knew she had won; it was the only answer, the only way past Aziraphale, at least they hoped.

Crowley had been watching from up above, silently, keeping track of his two infiltrators, his eyes following to where the little ones pointed. There amidst the carnage was Aziraphale. Crowley had always wanted to see Aziraphale in the glory of the almighty, but not like this. Still, Crowley appreciated what he was viewing.

With a growl, Crowley darted towards Aziraphale, his wings fully extended, pushing him faster. Aziraphale heard Crowley before he saw him, but there in that instance, Crowley dove down, knocking Aziraphale off his feet.

The two little ones saw what Crowley was doing, knowing that this was their chance to skirt by the Principality. They took their moment, disappearing in between demons and angels alike. Feeling as Aziraphale looked their way, feeling the demonic energy they contained, but as Amnay led the way, she let her image shimmer just enough to be a slight blur, a heavenly white and gold.

Aziraphale turned his head away as he got up off the ground, growling under his breath, now ignoring the two, Aziraphale took off after Crowly. It had worked; there in the distance was the runes on the ground to teleport them to Heaven. Crowley flew and flew fast; he knew that Aziraphale would only tolerate so much.

Crowley looked below him as the ground turned into a blur, the faster he pushed himself to fly. The cities, villages, and the town left behind him as he continued into rolling hills of green that hadn't been touched yet by the war. Making the mistake of looking behind, he slowed slightly; then, he felt a hand grip around his ankle.

The ground came up far faster than he could prepare himself for; feeling the breath he didn't need, Crowley gasped in at air. Blinking at the notion he had gone from flying to feeling the ground hit his back, Crowley quickly let his eyes adjust.

"Shit."

Crowley found himself looking up at Aziraphale, who had planted a knee on his chest. His sword having been slammed into the ground next to his head. Crowley didn't move for a moment, letting his form shimmer, slowly changing, until Aziraphale's hand wrapped around his throat. There would be no easy escape this time, though Crowley really didn't want to.

"Well fuck Crowley, that's a tad underwhelming of a response. No other words, just shit?"

Crowley shivered under the weight of Aziraphale on his chest, trembling at the sounds of his angel swearing so easily, turning his core into molten lava. Aziraphale mistook Crowley trembling for fear; even though it wasn't what he had expected, something seemed off about the whole thing.

Standing back up off of Crowley, he pulled his sword from the ground, twirling it within his hand. The flames leaving a trail in the air following the wake of the blade. Taking a deep breath to ground himself, Crowley knew he couldn't let his feelings, his wants, his desires get the best of him.

Even as he stood, Crowley felt the want dripping from his form, temptation no longer under check. Crowley had needed Aziraphale's touch; he had missed him, longed for his angel, and here he was, in all his glory letting him up from the ground. Scrambling to his feet, Crowley lowered himself slightly.

"Letting up your demon Angel?"

Aziraphale stopped in his tracks. ~Angel~ somewhere deep within him, resided a seed that him being called ~Angel~ started to nurture. Leaving his back to Crowley for a moment longer, letting the air around start to crackle with an energy that wasn't painful but something else.

Aziraphale's felt the energy rush through his spine, clawing, eating at it, touching every nerve in his angelic form. A stuttered breath, Crowley saw it, heard it, grinning as his black mist circled him. Caressing the bottom of his legs, his scales, easing into a different pattern around him, protecting him for close combat.

"Well, I want a fair fight, in a way. Be boring otherwise, serpent."

Aziraphale finally turned to look at Crowley, his eyes locking with Crowleys. The look, the feeling that poured off of Crowley bulldozed over Aziraphale, taking a step back. It was the grin that dragged Aziraphale back into the moment he had created.

"So, sparring then, angel?"

"Stop calling me that."

"Calling you what, Angel?"

Aziraphale growled; something was wrong; he could feel it, but why did he like it. Crowley saw a feeling start to grow in Aziraphale's eyes; he would play that feeling against Aziraphale. Letting his tongue out, touching along his lower lip, Crowley watched as angellic eyes followed his tongue.

Without warning, Crowley had lept from the ground, turning mid-air, landing behind Aziraphale. Flipping his sword, Aziraphale spun around as Crowley bent backward, the sword barely missing his abdomen. Dropping to the ground, Crowley swiped Aziraphale's legs out from under him, snapping his wrists forward; Crowley's whips wrapped around Aziraphale's armored ankles, pulling him to the ground.

"You know Angel, the humans do have a saying; it seems fitting now."

Crowley kept himself low to the ground, on his toes, he slid further around Aziraphale, ready to dodge and parry if need be. Aziraphale looked at Crowley, expectantly waiting for the cocky demon to finish.

"Well? For fucks sake Crowley, is this how you always talk?"

Crowley humphed at his angel, though his swearing was something he never knew he had a thing for, oh how he was discovering new things. The fact that he was this close to his angel, who was spewing profanities, was doing something to his lower regions that he didn't need issues with at the moment.

"The bigger they are, the harder they fall, angel."

Crowley finding himself rather poetic in stealing human terms found himself suddenly on his back with Aziraphale entirely on top of him. His arms jacked, above his head looking up at Aziraphale. Crowley instinctually found himself pulling against the divine grip that had him in a rather vulnerable position.

"So, tell me again, what was that human analogy?"

It took Crowley a moment to realize that Aziraphale had a teasing tone in his voice. This still didn't help his lower region that decided at that moment as Crowley struggled against the hands that held him still to begin to make itself known. Crowley felt it and tried to move away; his hips shifted, not having taken into account the knee that was firmly plastered into the ground between his legs.

It was an unconscious movement as Crowley's hips rolled against Aziraphale's knee, dragging a needy moan from Crowley. Aziraphale's eyes widened at the wanton display, though a smirk pulled at the corners of Aziraphale's lips.

"Maybe you should use different terms, Crowley."

There was a different scent; Aziraphale lowered his face to Crowley's neck, taking in the new scent; it was unpleasant. It pulled at Aziraphale as he inhaled Crowley. Aziraphale knew that smell; it was innately Crowley, but he didn't know from where. Standing up, Aziraphale held out his hand.

Crowley slapped it away; this was already going in a direction he wasn't expecting and wasn't honestly sure if it should continue, but he was a demon; after all, take what you can get while you can, and this was his angel.

'Fine, better bring more than just those whips, Crowley; I catch them again, I am going to tie your wrists together."

Well, there was a thought, rather intriguing and teasingly Crowley let his whips back out, holding his arms above his head.

"So you want me like this, then, angel?"

Crowley saw that look again, he knew he was playing with fire, but oh, it would be so worth it. Aziraphale tilted his head as he charged Crowley, finding himself going past Crowley, feeling the whip snap against his back. Arching his back away from the whip, he spun on his heels.

Crowley ducked under the sword again, this time far more efficiently; he was coming into his own again. It had been six millennia since he ever had to fight, but now this was becoming a fun sparring challenge. Debating is he should let his angel win this or not, maybe a little longer.

Crowley flipped quickly up and off the ground, landing behind Aziraphale, sliding his daggers from the sides of his legs; Aziraphale found Crowley's arms around his neck from behind. Feeling the sharp edge of both blades against his throat, Aziraphale stopped moving as a grin Crowley couldn't see planted itself firmly.

Crowley may have thought he had the upper hand in this one on one sparring match, but he was wrong. Just as quickly as Crowley had his arms wrapped around Aziraphale, he never took into account where Aziraphale's hands were.

Aziraphale grabbed Crowley's wrists in each of his hands, holding the daggers away from his throat; Aziraphale flipped Crowley up and over his head. With a twist of Aziraphale's hands, Crowley found himself on the ground in front of Aziraphale.

Crowley tried to stop the spinning of his head and of how he got where he was. Though it wasn't like he minded, he would have much rather have been facing Aziraphale in his knees instead.

"Too bad, angel, should have faced me the other way around."

With his curiosity being toyed with, Aziraphale tilted his head, knowing he felt something he was never supposed to feel. He wasn't put off by Crowley. If anything, it was always a draw, a pull. Dragging his need out of him, his pelvis on fire, that exploded into and around his spine.

Crowley turned his head to look at Aziraphale, who was still standing, looking down at Crowley. Something in his eyes was not so much as confusion as a want of the demon in front of him. Crowley saw it, didn't believe it, but he saw it growing as pupils were becoming black holes eating the stars that filled Aziraphale's eyes.

~Is that want?~ Crowley thought to himself, turning back around to get up, he was surprised.

Crowley's thought left quickly, feeling himself pressed back into the ground with a rather aroused angel behind him, a feather-light brush of air on his ear touched lightly by lips and tongue. Aziraphale's hips pushed up against him, rubbing his already hard cock against Crowley's ass.

"Do you want something, Crowley? Don't lie, I'll know, I'm an angel...you don't want me to punish you."

Aziraphale's voice was low and commanding, sending chills up and down his demon. Crowley moaned unintentionally at his words; how could his angel's voice sound like that? Crowley tried to turn to face his angel; Crowley desperately wanted to run his tongue over his angel lips. It had been so long since the last time he needed his love.

There was so much more here than Aziraphale knew; he only knew he could feel something. Something he needed as much as he thrived on divinity, Crowley was filling a hole in his heart, something missing. A thought, a feeling, a need that Crowley was filling.

Crowley's free hand tried to run along up Aziraphale's thigh, feeling the cold armor, before skin touched his fingertips. Aziraphale groaned, growling with a warning; hearing the growl next to his ear only had Crowley trembling under Aziraphale. Crowley found himself now with his hands pinned gound, Aziraphales sword in front of him; as he looked, his whips were thrown over the sword.

Aziraphale slid against Crowley's ass slowly; his angel was wearing that title out…

"Answer me a little snake, tell me what you want."

Aziraphale growled out in a low purr... Nevermind that title of "angel" went up in flames, and the ashes were scattered in the depths of hell. All Crowley could feel was the heat of Aziraphale's breath, the weight of him, his celestial grip on his wrists.

Lips brushed Crowley's neck, gasping as teeth bit into the side of his neck, Aziraphales free hand slid down the side Crowley's body. Sliding over sensitive scales, touching skin that varied between cold and hot. Aziraphale was having far too much fun, but Crowley knew a few things about Aziraphale, and perhaps even here, they would work.

Crowley's forehead rested on the soft grass under him, feeling his own cock pressing into the ground, needing friction anything. Moaning enough so that Aziraphale could hear him, letting his hips shift under him, the motion was not missed by Aziraphale.

"I want you Aziraphale, Angel, please..."

With that, he found himself flipped around and placed on his knees in front of the glow of a wanton Principality. Swallowing hard as he tried to read that expression, Aziraphale tilted Crowley's chin up, bending down he leaned in and let Crowley kiss him. The kiss was chaste until Aziraphale bit and sucked in Crowley's lower lip; Crowley made a desperate sound and tried to deepen the kiss. To which Aziraphale pulled back with a sadistic grin.

Crowley pushed up on his knees to try and press harder into that kiss, Aziraphale had pulled back, but Crowley's long tongue ran over his lips; he moaned into the kiss. Aziraphale let the burn settle and curl in on itself at the base of his spine, shock waves traveling the length of him. Crowley reached up and pulled him into a deep kiss he had waited for six millennia for, only to have it taken away from him just as quickly.

Crowley found himself pushed back against the grass with a pupil blown angel pressed between his legs, his knee pressed up into him, pressing against his cock; Crowley moaned as he rubbed against Aziraphale's knee. Placing Crowley's hands over his head Aziraphale pinned them to the grass.

Pushing against his wrists, Crowley realized he was being held by a light charge of divine energy. Crowley pulled against it, the movement sent chills down Aziraphale's body, and he moaned.

"Oh pleassse, fucking struggle, my little demon."

Aziraphale growled out as he snapped his fingers; his demon gasped, divinity poured off Aziraphale and onto his now very naked form. Aziraphale reached up, looking deeply into Crowley's golden eyes.

Bending his head down, licking at Crowley's lips, tasting him, his hands slid up and down his chest, stopping to pinch his nipple before gently scratching his bare chest with his nails.

Crowley got lost in the azure eyes that looked at him up and down in a confusing need. Aziraphale's eyes locked onto Crowleys; he could see the battle fury and lust in the Principality. Shivering under the weight and intensity of that look, using his long tongue to run over his angel's lower lip, pushing Aziraphale further into lust and desire. He didn't want that divine fury to win, Crowley wanted to win this, and his prize was his angel, taking him. Anyway, he wanted.

Crowley rolled his hips, rubbing both his cocks up against Aziraphale, barely enough pressure, but it caused a reaction. A wickedly wanton smirk formed as Aziraphale pressed against Crowley, feeling how hard his cock was, and pressed against his own tipped the fury to pure want and need.

Aziraphale ran his fingers into Crowley's hair, pulling it roughly to the side, exposing his neck. Crowley could feel Aziraphale's lips, then his tongue was on his neck, teeth dragging over sensitive skin. Aziraphale bit down hard, leaving his mark as Crowley gasped and moaned loudly. Aziraphale held his flesh in his teeth, running his tongue over it.

Knowing it would leave a mark, his mark, Aziraphale smiled, continuing to leave marks, a bite, a lick, scraping his teeth across already bit areas, Crowley's breath hitched on every bite, oh how Aziraphale found he loved those sounds, he wanted more.

Crowley whimpered, trying to get closer to his angel; the bite ignited his need that much more; knowing his angel just marked him was almost enough to push him over the edge. Aziraphale felt Crowley's cocks twitch against him. He trailed a long strip of licks, bites, and more from his collarbone to his stomach and back up.

"Not yet, my little demon, I've only just started."

Aziraphale leaned in to kiss his captured demon, that alone fueled him, the sounds he made, said demon being Crowley was super-powered fuel. The kiss was deep, long, a run of the tongue along the sensitive roof of his mouth, a bite and suck of a lip before those hot kisses traveled down a jaw, a neck over his chest stopping and biting, flicking and teasing Crowley's nipple.

Aziraphale stayed until his demon was writhing under him before he switched sides, and even then, he gave no quarter. His wanton mouth traveled lower, peppering a whimpering demon with bites and kisses. Crowley was falling apart in the hands of his angel.

Crowley was a whimpering mess, but he was not going to beg; he wasn't going to give in to Aziraphale; it was a nice thought. His eyes closed, feeling a kiss, bite, and the flick of a tongue in the sensitive spot between your hip and pelvis; it dragged a moan out of him. Suddenly one of his cocks was entirely in Aziraphale's mouth being devoured...his breath left as he gasped...and begged. Crowley's hands twisted into the grass, twisting on his stomach, he moaned loudly.

"P-pleasssse Aziraphale, angel, oh fuck, pleassssse."

There he was, big bad demon...begging. Just as that thought started, the hand of God plucked it from his brain and replaced it with nothing but want. Aziraphale went all the down on Crowley. His nose bumping into his stomach, holding it there, sucking against his stomach with his cock against the back of his throat; Crowley desperately moaned, feeling Aziraphale's free hand wrap around his other cock. Slowly lazily stroking him from tip to base, in time with the way he was sucking him.

Aziraphale's mouth stopped as his nose touched Crowley's pelvic bone, letting his finger slide into his mouth, before taking the wetness and sliding his finger into Crowley. It curled, hitting his prostate; Crowley's eyes rolled in the back of his head as he called his angel's name. He had come apart under his angel. With each finger, Aziraphale sucked him to the hilt and swallowed.

"Pleassse angel, pleassse."

Aziraphale looked at him and stopped with an insanely dirty sounding pop. With an even more come fuck me look.

"What my little demon, tell me. Beg me, let me hear you, beg me. Tell me you want me to fuck you."

Crowley didn't care anymore; there was no pretense he wanted to be brutally fucked by his angel, claimed and loved by him in any way he could in this reality.

"Pleasssse angel, f-fuck me pleassse. Make me yoursss."

A very possessive and low growl escaped Aziraphale as he snapped his fingers, his armor vanished, and the restraint was gone. He needed to feel Crowley on him, touching him. Clawing at his back, his arms, tasting his lips. Aziraphale held him down for a moment and looked dead in his eyes; the look was beyond possessive; it was a want and a need of over six thousand years.

"Mine." was all Aziraphale said, he didn't know why, but at that moment, Crowley was his.

Crowley moaned at his words; his hands were free. Immediately his hands gripped into those platinum curls dragging Zira up to his mouth, kissing him desperately. His hands wanted to touch everywhere until they dragged roughly down his back and into the softest of feathers he had ever felt, running his fingers through them Aziraphale's wings he moaned.

The bladed tips were soft but shining like raindrops in the sun. Crowley gently brushed through those feathers finding the spot where they met skin and rubbed. Aziraphale moaned into the kiss; he needed to be in his demon. Fingers slid out of Crowley, only to be replaced with Aziraphale pressing into him.

"Yes?" he asked, impatiently, but that was a Principality.

"Pleassse, Aziraphale, pleassse, take me"

Crowley's breath hitched, feeling his angel slide into him, claiming him, purposely he brushed over the feathers where they met skin, causing his angel to push into him faster and deeper, stopping when he couldn't go any further. The Principality needed him, and his eyes flamed with divine energy. Crowley felt the heat of those eyes, and it burnt.

Aziraphale ducked his head into Crowley's neck, determined to make his demon call his name. He needed this; he had to have this...slowly, Aziraphale pulled almost out before sliding back in, when the resistance let go, he hitched Crowley's legs on his shoulders and pulled him up and into him. Aziraphale needed to bury himself inside his demon.

"Fuck me, Aziraphale, please, I won't break, please, fuck..."

Crowley had come apart at the seams when Azirapahel fucked him, making it a point to hit his spot with every other thrust. He felt himself getting close...

"Cum for me, Crowley."

Reaching in between them, Aziraphale wrapped his hand around his demon's cocks, stroking them in his hand. Each tightening of his hand in time with the way he was fucking Crowley.

There was nothing gentle; there was only them, on a battlefield, where good was supposed to be thwarting evil. Aziraphale had claimed his demon, but there was something more, only he couldn't remember. Hearing his demon, ~, his demon~, call his name, beg him for this, and the way it made him feel, he knew he was going to want whatever this was again.

Crowley was a moaning mess under him; it only took three long strokes before nails dug deep into Aziraphale's back as Crowley came crying out his name, feeling golden blood trickle from his back. Crowley's clawed hands had dug in deep; Aziraphale liked the pain and came shortly after biting into Crowley's neck claiming him.

Aziraphale let his forehead rest on Crowley's shoulder as they both caught their breath.

"This is not what I had planned."

Aziraphale panted out, slowly feeling Crowleys hands slide through his hair; picking his head up, he looked at Crowley; there was a smile in place of everything else. Aziraphale gasped as he saw that smile, he knew it, but his eyes were drawn to where he had claimed Crowley.

"Fuck."

Crowley let go of Aziraphale, hearing the snap, and feeling everything back on him, clean, perfect per usual, although his neck was far sorer than he expected. Reaching up, Crowley touched his neck; it stung his fingers, his eyes growing exponentially.

"Angel, what did you do?"

Aziraphale grabbed his sword, looking up to the skies as though he was just going to leave Crowley there; he felt Crowleys heart drop. Turning to him, he grabbed Crowley by his wrist, pulling him into a kiss that left his knees weak.

"I don't know how or why, but I will find you again; I just hope it isn't on the battlefield."

Aziraphale smirked slightly and was gone leaving Crowley with his fingers touching a burning spot on his neck. He needed to see what it was, looking around. He saw a small cottage along the banks of a lake, with a gentle little brook that bubbled past it.

Ducking into the cottage, Crowley found a mirror and looked into it. He was perfectly clean, no grass, not even a mark until he looked closer. Squinting his eyes as though he couldn't quite see what it was, he got closer to the mirror.

"Fuck."

Crowley touched at golden marks that Aziraphale had left, somehow growing along his nack to under his collar whee the last of the bites was given. The scales under the bite were all turning gold, shimmering in iridescent light.

"How the fuck do I explain this?"

A crack in Heaven sounded alarms as Crowley's spies entered it. All eyes turned towards the sound; a growl could be heard throughout Heaven. Quickly Amnay let what divinity she had, wrap around her counterpart, the purer part, which she found funny at that moment.

Letting her smile blind all those that looked at her, she stopped waiting for the sounds of warning to die down. Assuming that it was the battle below, the two were finally ignored, ducking behind the closest building.

"You are going to need to stay silent; where do we even begin?"

Pointing Amnay followed the finger, there just beyond angels and warriors alike, they saw a horror. Heaven wasn't killing all of the demons. They were being captured and enslaved; higher up in one of the spires was Gabriel, a look of terror, confusion, no it was a gloat.

Amnay growled as she started to head towards the demons, and Gabriel, only to be pulled back behind the building.

"We need a plan; we won't make it past the demons."

"True, but when we get Gabriel, I get to do everything I can think of that won't kill him."

"How did you end up being the angelic one?"

"Easy, you're a spider, I am not, but my bite is far worse than yours."

Grasping each other's hands, they slowly made their way to the spire, holding back the tears that filled their eyes, seeing what the angels were doing to their kind; this was so very wrong, they both knew it.


End file.
